Flashman and the Angel of the Lord. George Fraser MacDonald

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СКАЧАТЬ dear? Ye have – an’ got little good o’ them? Aye, well, they’ve a hard row to hoe, wi’ some queer ones in this town, I’ll tell ye! They wouldn’t know of a British consul, neither …? No, no … it’s a wonder they didn’t think to steer you to a feller-countryman, at least – there’s enough of English and ourselves hereabouts, God knows. But they didn’t; ah, well. But come away an’ we’ll have that dish o’ tea while we think what’s best to be done. An’ how’s the Liffey lookin’, eh?’

      I sat in his kitchen while he prattled Irishly and made tea. Since I’d never been in Dublin in my life, I found it safest to let him run on, with a cheery agreement from time to time, waiting an opportunity to state my needs, but he didn’t give me one, being content to prose sentimentally about the ‘ould country’, until:

      ‘An’ ye’re in the banking line yourself, are ye?’ says he at last. ‘Ah, well, ye’re in the right furrow in Ameriky; fine grand opportunities for a gentleman like yourself, so there are; it’s a commercial world, so it is, a commercial world, but none the worse for bein’ that if the trade’s honest an’ the word’s good! An’ ye’re a Trinity man, too!’ He chuckled wistfully. ‘Ah, this is a country of grand prospects, but I wonder could a man do better than sit in the ould College court contemplatin’ the trees on St Stephen’s Green on a summer’s evenin’? You’d be there about ’45, am I right?’

      I made a hasty calculation and said, rather earlier, ’43.

      ‘Then ye would know ould Professor Faylen!’ cries he. ‘A fine man, that, an’ a grand Hebrew scholar, so they said, not that I’m a judge. He would still be about in your day, was he not?’

      I can smell a false lead as fast as anyone, but he was such a happy simpleton that I decided it was safe to say I hadn’t studied under Faylen myself, but knew of him. He nodded amiably, and sighed.

      ‘Ah, well, here am I blatherin’ on, an’ you itchin’ to take your way to Washington. Aye, but with your pockets all to let. Well, man dear, I was after thinkin’ yonder that I’d be makin’ ye a small loan for your train ticket, but d’ye know, I’d be party to an awful sin if I did that, so I would. Ye see,’ says he, shaking his pawky old head, ‘the day ye find a priest sittin’ in the court at Trinity is a day ye’ll be able to skate over Dublin Bay from Bray to Balbriggan – an’ as for seein’ St Stephen’s Green from the court, well, I doubt if even ould Faylen could see that far from heaven, where he’s been this five-and-thirty years, God rest his soul. An’ tellin’ me ye were a banker,’ he added sorrowfully, ‘an’ you wid spurs an’ brass buttons stickin’ out all over ye! Now, will ye take another drop o’ tea … soldier, an’ tell me all about it?’

      ‘You wouldn’t believe it if I did,’ says I, rising. ‘Thank’ee for the tea, padre, and I’ll bid you a very good day.’

      ‘Stop, stop!’ cries he. ‘Sit down, man dear, an’ don’t be takin’ offence at an ould man jist because he knows Phoenix Park shoulders when he sees them! Come, now, be easy, an’ drink your tea. Can ye not see I’m burstin’ to know the truth of it?’

      His smile was so eager and friendly that I found myself smiling in turn. ‘What makes you think I’ll tell truth this time?’

      ‘Why shouldn’t ye? Ye’ll come to no harm from me if ye do. An’ if ye don’t – well, am I to have no diversion at all? Now then – whut’s this I wouldn’t believe? Jist you try me!’

      ‘Very well … I’m a British Army officer, I was on my way home from India, I was waylaid at Cape Town and crimped aboard a packet which arrived here yesterday, I’m destitute – but thanks to you I know where to find British authorities who’ll help me back to England. And if you believe that –’

      ‘And why would I not? It fits ye better than all that moonshine about bankin’ an’ Trinity, I’ll say that for it! What’s your name, my son?’

      There was no earthly reason why I shouldn’t tell him – so I shook my head. Least said.

      ‘An’ why didn’t ye ask direction from the first policeman ye saw?’ I still said nothing, and he nodded, no longer smiling. I rose again to go, for the sooner I was out of this, the better, but he stayed me with a hand on my sleeve. ‘Ye’ll tell me no more? Well, now, just bide a minute while I think about … no, don’t go! Ye want the fare to Washington, don’t ye?’

      I waited, while he cogitated, chin in hand, eyes bright as a bird’s.

      ‘Tell ye whut I think. Ye’re an officer, an’ a bit of a gentleman – I know the look. An’ ye’re a runner – now, now, don’t be addin’ to your sins by denyin’ it, for I had a parish in Leix in the Great Trouble, an’ I know that look, too – aye, twice as long in the leg as ye would be if I put a fut-rule on ye! An’, man dear, ye’re a desperate liar … but who’s not, will ye tell me? But ye’re civil, at least – an’ ye’re Army, an’ didn’t me own father an’ two uncles an’ that other good Irishman Arthur Wellesley follow the flag across Spain togither – they did!’ He paused, and sighed. ‘Now, ye’re a Protestant, so I can’t penance ye for tellin’ lies. But since I’m dreadful afflicted wid the rheumatics, and can’t abide diggin’ at all, at all … well, if ye can sink your gentlemanly pride an’ finish them two rows for me, why, t’will be for the good o’ your soul an’ my body. An’ there’ll be ten dollars to take ye to Washington – nine an’ a half in loan, to be repaid at your convenience, an’ fifty cents for your labour. Well … what say ye, my son?’

      Well, I needed that ten dollars … but who’d have thought, when Campbell pinned my Cross on me, that seven months later I’d be digging a bog-trotter’s garden in Maryland? Father Rafferty watched me as I turned the last sods, observing drily that it was plain to see I was English from the way I handled a spade. Then he gave me a mug of beer, and counted ten dollars carefully into my palm.

      ‘I’ll walk ye to the station,’ says he. ‘No one’ll look twice at ye when ye’re keepin’ step wid the Church. An’ I can see ye don’t get on the wrong train, or lose your money, or go astray anyways, ye know?’

      He put me on the right train, sure enough, but the rest of his statement proved as wrong as could be. Someone did look at us, but I didn’t notice at the time, possibly because I was busy parrying Rafferty’s artful questions about the Army and India – at least I could satisfy him I was telling the truth about those.

      ‘Ask at the Washington station where the British minister’s to be found,’ he advised me, ‘an’ if they don’t know, make your way to Willard’s Hotel on Fourteenth Street, an’ they’ll set ye right. It’s the great place, an’ if they turn up their noses at your togs, jist give ’em your Hyde Park swagger, eh?

      ‘But mind how ye go, now!’ cries he, as I mounted the step to the coach. ‘T’will be dark by the time ye get in, an’ ’tis a desperate place for garotters an’ scallywags an’ the like! We wouldn’t want ye waylaid a second time, would we?’

      Gratitude ain’t my long suit, as you know, but he’d seen me right, and he was a cheery wee soul; looking down at the smiling pixie face under the round hat, I couldn’t help liking the little murphy, and wondering why he’d been at such pains on my behalf. It’s a priest’s business, of course, to succour the distressed sinner, but I knew there was more in it than that. He was a lonely old man, far from home, and he was Irish, and had guessed I was on the run, and I was Army, like his father and uncles. And he had taken to me, as folk do, even when they know I’m not straight.

      ‘I wish СКАЧАТЬ